(Warning: with less than a week until my due date and labor signs coming on strong, I'm officially singularly-focused. Click away now if you don't want to read any more pregnancy-rumination.)

When a friend asked me the other day the simple question, "how are you feeling at the end of your pregnancy," and I answered, "feeling well, actually," it struck me how drastically one can shift the barometer for "feeling well" at times like this. Yes, sure, I'm well enough and by all medical standards I've had a healthy pregnancy; I've managed to avoid such pesky third-trimester commonalities as backaches, hemorrhoids, heartburn or cankles, as well as some of the more troubling complications like gestational diabetes or pre-eclampsia. So in that sense, ok, I feel great. But let's look at the following litany of ailments, shall we: insomnia and sleep disturbances (as in getting up to use the toilet every few hours, and wow is getting out of the big bed a chore), some swelling when the temperature rises or if I sit for too long, achy joints (it hurts for me to make a fist, for example), ligament stretching in my pelvis (due to intriguing hormones by the name of Relaxin), crampiness, frequent mild contractions, fatigue, grouchiness, and constant exhaustion at lugging around 40 extra pounds. So it's often difficult to walk, bend, move at all, stay awake, work well, clear my head, think, even socialize. Feeling well? Um, yeah, ok, if that's what you mean by feeling well.